


Thread of Life

by UltraVioletSoul



Series: Porn With Feelings...? [5]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pope Saga, let's hope...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltraVioletSoul/pseuds/UltraVioletSoul
Summary: It is said that the Moirai weave the threads of life and determine the destinies of everyone, according to the will of the goddess Ananke.But of all the fates they could have woven for you, why did they think it would be a good idea to intertwine your existence with that of a man whose love would be your doom?[[ Gemini Saga x F!Reader ]]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angeljasiel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=angeljasiel).



> Well, this is actually my first Saint Seiya fic ever xD. I've recently gotten back into the childhood memories train and, well... I finished the classic series, at long last. I only had some vague recollections about the story and the characters, since I was very young at the time, though I recall that I used to play with action figures of gold saints that my parents bought me for Christmas :v aaah, the good ol' days ♥♥♥
> 
> Either way, here's me trying to write something for my favorite gold saint xD (though I love them all). I promised my friend **angeljasiel** that I would write this fic for her because she loves Saga too, and I have to say that I'm so very sorry that I'm always behind schedule. Next chapter is in the works already!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. Future sexual content. Possible OoC. OCs. I'm taking some artistic licenses here.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Saint Seiya and its characters belong to Masami Kurumada. I'm only trying to provide entertainment to the readers and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

**Prologue**

The tales of old said that the Moirai controlled the destinies of everyone, without exception. Mistresses in charge of the cosmological order, they were the ones who wove the intricate pattern in the history of the universe and distributed the share of each being in the grand scheme of the creation.

Whether mortal or god, an individual’s fate was bound by the will of these sisters— who guided his steps and dictated the consequences of his actions, for better or for worse. Only the goddess Ananke, life-giver and destroyer— as well as her consort Khronos, the old personification of Time— had any control over the Relentless Ones, and history was written according to her ancient counsel. These two primordial gods marked the beginning of everything, when they crushed the primal egg of creation from whence the universe came to be. Such was their omnipotence that they were beyond the reach of even the powerful gods of the Olympus, never to be found, driving the rotation of the heavens and overseeing the eternal passage of time.

The Moirai, white-robed daughters of Ananke, were three. Clotho, the spinner, who wound the thread with her spinning wheel; Lakhesis, the disposer of lots, who measured it with her rod; and Atropos, the inflexible, who decided the manner of death of each person and cut the thread with the terrible shear in her hands. It was their duty to observe that every being fulfilled its destiny, assigned by Ananke, without any obstacles.

So when Lachesis drew out the thread of life from Ananke’s spindle, it had already been decided that you were to be born in the heart of a humble family in Rodorio. Even more so, the story of your life had already been plotted before it was even woven in the tapestry of destiny.

By then it was the year 1960, a time of political unrest in Greece that would eventually lead to a military coup in 1967— consequence of the never ending Cold War. It was also the year senator John Fitzgerald Kennedy won the presidential elections in the United States, and the conflict in Vietnam escalated with the emergence of the National Liberation Front. The year before the construction of the Berlin Wall began, in response to a massive exodus of refugees into West Germany. It was the year France tested its first atomic bomb in the Sahara desert, becoming the fourth nuclear power in the world. 1960, when many African countries gained their independence after years of colonialism; when Nazi criminal, Adolf Eichmann, was captured by the Mossad and taken to Israel to be tried for his crimes against humanity.

It was the Moirai who intertwined your thread with that of your parents from the moment you were born. With the much feared pain of childbirth, and the cries of your mother as she desperately fought to push you out of her womb, your life began— covered in blood and wailing at the top of your lungs.

When your father saw you in the arms of his wife, deep down he hadn't been very thrilled at the idea that his firstborn was a girl. Still, he found contentment in the thought that your mother would give him many more children— hopefully sons— in years to come. It was months later, during your baptism, that you were given the name of one of your grandmothers and in the stars your fate was sealed.

Unbeknownst to you, in 1958, the man whose thread would irredeemably become knotted and twisted with yours had been born at the end of May somewhere in Athens. Back then, neither of you could even imagine what the future had in store for you— the cruel joke of fate you would be subjected to. After all, he was a Saint of Athena and you… you weren't  allowed to fall in love with him nor anyone. He wasn't supposed to be looking at you with the eyes of a man, the eyes of desire— a yearning that would be considered impure and wrong. Any other woman would have been acceptable in the eyes of everyone, but not you. She could never be you.

The same circumstances that had brought you together would force you apart. Even when you tried to forget him, to leave him behind, erasing the memory of him from your mind was impossible. Drinking from the waters of the Lethe might have been your only salvation from this torment, this agony that consumed you with the mirage of what you could never have. 

Still, in spite of your better judgment, you chose to hold onto this pain— onto these sinful feelings that only brought suffering. From the moment you gave in to this burning desire and embraced him in the cover of the darkest night, you knew your soul would be condemned to an eternal punishment. Maybe you should have feared the wrath of the gods, but in the safety of his arms you could forget about tomorrow. Even if your love was immoral, even if it was a crime— a transgression of ancient laws—, it was the only way he could be yours. The only option left in the face of desolation for dreams that never were meant to be.

A life without him was empty, meaningless. Whether you wanted it or not, he was part of you— of your heart and soul— and you loved him… so much that you were willing to forgive him the wrong he had done. Oh, the foolish girl you were. You forgave him when he said he regretted his wrongdoings from the bottom of his heart, because you wanted to believe that the kind man you once knew still lived in him. So in love were you that you chose to blind yourself to the terrible monster that had lurked inside him for so long. You chose to live in a lie instead of facing the truth; instead of accepting that it wasn't you who could save him from himself because you simply did not possess that power.

Would the gods ever forgive you? Probably not. No matter how much you tried to believe in your own fantasies, everything had a price and you would have to pay for your sins sooner or later. This was something that had become very clear to you, when you looked back into the past. And in the end, you could only laugh at the sad irony of life.

What a strange sense of humor the gods had.


	2. Chapter I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back with another chapter. 
> 
> First, I'd like to apologize for taking so long to update. **AngelJasiel** , I'm so sorry about that! I haven't forgotten my promises. I will definitely finish what I've started :D
> 
> I also would like to thank everyone for the comments and kudos. Hope you enjoy ♥♥♥
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warnings:** Unbetaed work. English is not my native language. Future sexual content. Possible OoC. OCs. I'm taking some artistic licenses here.

**Chapter I**

The day you were brought to the sanctuary of Athena was, perhaps, a memory of your childhood that had always remained vivid in your mind— even as the years passed.

And how could you forget? It was on that day you were separated from your family, without a say in the matter and without even taking your feelings into consideration. And why should it have mattered what you wanted, either way? Children didn’t know what they wanted in life, so it was only natural that their elders would decide on behalf of them— as they always knew best. Or that was what you'd always been told, at least.

But maybe it would be best to explain the circumstances that led you to this dilemma, in the first place.

You were only six years old when your parents— or rather, your father— made the decision that would determine the rest of your existence. Though that would probably be a miscalculation on your part. The truth was, your fate had been decided long before that— even long before you came to be. It had only been a matter of time until you were born to fulfill it— to be thrust into a world of which you had little knowledge in order to play your part in the grand plan of the gods.

While you’d heard some parents mention, on few occasions, that they would like to find a place in the sanctuary for their daughters, you’d been too young to understand the implications behind that statement. At the time, you hadn’t concerned yourself too much over the reasons why they wished to do such a thing. After all, it had never crossed your mind that you would be actually stepping foot on holy land— the domains of the goddess Athena and her legendary saints.

Born and raised near the village of Rodorio, you were the daughter of a humble farmer who maintained business with the sanctuary— and had built himself a decent reputation as a provider of small livestock and other essential goods. While your family wasn’t wealthy, it was a good trade and allowed you to get by. At least, you didn’t remember ever going hungry or cold under their care— but this didn't mean life was any easier. Even so, despite never enjoying great luxuries, for the most part your childhood had been a happy one— occasionally playing with other children in the village and looking after sheep with your trusty shepherd dog, Argos.

And what a good dog he was. Whenever you thought about him, you remembered him with nostalgia and affection for innocent days gone. Oh, how simple everything was back then, when you used to sit down beneath the shade of an old olive tree with him— weaving daisy crowns that he would proudly wear. Given that your siblings were still too young to tag along, Argos was your only company in those long afternoons as you watched the sheep graze and made sure they were safe.

Looking after sheep was something you enjoyed the most, even if some people would think of it as a very boring activity. It meant you wouldn't have much else to do during the afternoon, and it gave you an opportunity to daydream for a while. Of course, these were the usual fantasies of a child— mainly from stories your mother told you before going to bed. There were nice tales of the saints of Athena and the goddess, about their wars against other gods and their sacrifices. Even Rodorio had been named after one of them: a Pegasus saint— said to have been the first and only human to ever wound the divine body of the King of the Underworld, Hades, during the age of myth.

It was entertaining to imagine those epic battles during past holy wars, if only because as a child you loved indulging in such dreams. Still, it was also sad to think how many saints had died in order to protect this world— their names lost in time. Many of them devoted their lives solely to that purpose, renouncing to the luxury of a complacent and mundane existence for the greater good. For the saints of Athena, the greatest happiness they could aspire to was ensuring a future for all mankind— to preserve love and justice for everyone.

It couldn't have been easy to give up one's personal desires, to live a life at the service of others, and not expect anything in return. In that sense, the cause and beliefs of the saints were very noble; but it was hard for any ordinary person to live up to these principles. However, as expected, they were not average people— not by a long shot.

Chosen by the stars, they had been born with a precious gift; one that could make them akin to gods among humans. It was the ability to harness and manipulate the power of the cosmos at their will, a feat that many would consider impossible— even bordering on the fantastic and ludicrous. Who would actually believe in such childish tales in the modern day, after all? Few were privy to the existence of these warriors, and almost all common knowledge on them had disappeared throughout the years. They were mostly considered to be some kind of urban legend or fairy-tale, among the skeptical— or a matter of interest to journalists and paranormal investigators that sometimes paid visits to the village, in hopes of catching a glimpse of something unusual.

However, among your people, who had lived close to the sanctuary throughout many generations, saints were revered and held in high esteem. These stories weren't considered fantasy to your elders, but facts and it was was what word of mouth said— that saints possessed power like no other and could tear the heavens apart with their fists, as well as crack the earth with the feet.

They were living legends.

When the sun was setting and it was time to go home, Argos would readily help you herd the livestock as soon as you stood up and called his name. Barking with contentment, he would hurry the poor sheep back into their corral and rush home— in search of his tasty reward, no doubt. After a long day, it was always a joy to eat your mother's delicious food before going to bed with a full belly.

You remembered her as a hard-working woman, who looked after her children with love and dedication. Years after you’d been born, she bore a son and became pregnant again by the time you were five with another one— to the detriment of her health. This wasn't something unusual or frowned upon, however. Large families in Rodorio were quite common, if not the norm, and women were expected to marry young. Most of the time, their only prospect was finding a husband that could provide for their needs and those of their children— but this wasn't always the case. For those who were beyond marriageable age, sometimes their families decided to send them to the sanctuary to work as servants.

This way they would have one less mouth to feed, and their daughters could earn some money at the same time. Hands were always needed for the many daily chores that had to be done, and the payment was more than sufficient so it was a good way to ensure their livelihood and benefit for all.

Still, above that, there was a post that women aspired to earn— despite the low probabilities. Of course, that didn't stop numerous families from dreaming about it and your father had been one of those people. The problem was that there was only a handful of these women under Athena’s service at any given time, and that was the reason why it was such a coveted position.

The obstacles that hindered the way for an aspirant were many. First, being appointed priestess wasn't an opportunity that happened very often. The women that took their vows in their youth remained in the sanctuary for several decades, at the service of the goddess. It was only towards the end of their office, and near their retirement, that they began seeking apprentices to mentor in different fields of study— as preparation for their future replacements.

Little girls were preferred over young women, as they were easier to mold and adapt to the life and beliefs of the sanctuary— in addition to their purity of body and mind. They could be taught more easily the ways of the consecrated life and weren't as likely to question or resist the authority of their mentors, as older females would.

Still, even if the aspirant reunited the desirable qualities in an apprentice, being ordained wasn't something easy to achieve. The education was demanding, and it was said that a good portion of the applicants ended up quitting their studies before time due to the inexorable instruction— a way of separating the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. Only a handful made it to the final stages and, by then, they had to be absolutely certain that they wanted to devote their lives to Athena.

This brought another important detail into consideration, one that could never be ignored as it determined the trademark lifestyle of any priestess of Athena. It was demanded that, for the duration of her sacred duty, she had to remain chaste. This was to ensure that they were free of personal obligations, such as family and other relationships, to focus entirely on their commitments.

Another reason why this condition applied so strongly to the lives of these women was because one of the many epithets that described the goddess was Parthenos, in her aspect of ‘maiden’ or ‘virgin’. Athena had never been one to fall into the lust of romantic love, despite other gods vying for her attentions, for she wasn't interested in sexual conquests and her mission was protecting this world. It was imperative that priestesses, who were supposed to embody the virtues of gray-eyed Athena, followed her example by giving up pleasures of the flesh and remaining faithful to her in body and soul.

Despite chastity and celibacy being requirements to fulfill, these weren't actually considered disadvantages since there were many benefits that surpassed the lack of a romantic life, so to speak. A woman who chose the path of priesthood enjoyed a good social standing and was greatly admired by the community. Their personal safety was guaranteed, and their families received generous compensation for serving the sanctuary. Once in office, they could also exercise a moderate political influence and their words held a considerable authority. Not only that, but they had an unique opportunity to receive an excellent education and  could become scholars in a varied quantity of fields— historians, astronomers, astrologers, alchemists, judges, physicians, and masters of their craft, to name just a few.

It wouldn't be hard to understand why your father's greatest ambition in life was for his firstborn daughter to become a priestess of Athena, something that he was willing to achieve even at the cost of your own happiness. But it wasn’t until one day, when a woman showed up in your house, that you learned of what he had in store for you.

She was Pelagia; a chubby old woman of severe disposition, who didn't look very friendly in your opinion. Your father had been thrilled, perhaps a little too much, by her visit— although you couldn't have imagined why. Mother hadn't said much, either, but you could perceive the sadness in her gaze as she limited herself to remain silent and focus on her chores with your help.

Somehow, this woman seemed to be someone of importance— or, at least, that was the impression you got upon seeing her for the first time. There was no doubt Pelagia was from the sanctuary, given her clothes— the chiton she wore wasn't widely used anymore among the inhabitants of Rodorio, after all. However, she couldn't be a priestess. She didn't wear expensive robes and didn't possess the poise of an attendant of Athena. You would have known if she was one because you'd seen them before, during the annual Panathenaia— a festival in honor of the goddess— presiding the religious rites and sharing the sacrificed offers with the people.

It shouldn't have been strange to have visitors from the house of Athena, every now and then— considering your father had dealings with them. The priestesses made charity work and even the Grand Master cured the sick with his powers, on occasion. Still, the presence of this newcomer unnerved you. For starters, this wasn't the usual way they did business since your father usually sold his goods in the market. But you supposed this could be some kind of special request, perhaps.

There was something different about this woman, though you couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Young as you were, a voice deep inside seemed to tell you her visit didn't bode anything good. She eyed you with a none too flattering look throughout the whole meal, and you couldn't say you felt comfortable about it. You weren't used to staring openly at your elders and strangers because your mother had told you it was a bad thing, so why was Pelagia so rude? Her brown gaze felt intimidating, as though she was scrutinizing you— assessing you like you were an object, in order to determine your worth.

Despite your doubts, you tried to be in your best behavior— as mother had asked you. After helping to set the table and serve the meal, you sat down in silence, like a good little girl, looking expectantly at your elders as they discussed matters that escaped your understanding at your tender age. At best, you'd assumed they would discuss the usual business about livestock and prices, but when the conversation took an unexpected turn everything grew silent.

“I should guess that you already know the reason I’m here,” Pelagia finally said, having barely touched any of the food offered to her. Maybe it wasn’t to her liking? You didn't see anything wrong with your mother's fasolada and couldn't help but think how impolite this woman was. To be honest, she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there and it made you wonder why she had even visited. “Let us not beat around the bush anymore, Mr. Deimos. There are some things we must discuss, beforehand.”

This didn't sound like something that pleased your father. With a frown, he set his food aside, too, and engaged in a staring contest with Pelagia.

“Listen, I've paid good money for your help. Don't tell me that you've changed your mind or that you want to raise the price of our deal. We already made an agreement.”

“And of course I will keep my end of the bargain. Who do you take me for?” She seemed offended, to say the least, but still remained calm. “However, it'd be good that we discussed at more depth what can you expect from this arrangement. I want to clarify some matters, so that I won't hear complaints in the future.”

A well-timed look from your mother told you that it was time for you to leave, and so you did. Taking your little brother's hand, you led him outside and he followed without making a fuss— thank goodness.

Under the shade of a tree, he found entertainment in helping you grind the wheat grain to make flour that your mother would use to bake bread. You were supposed to teach him how to do it, the way she did once with you. The boy was still limited to housework, as he was too young to do any work in the fields. Your father, sometimes with the help of your mother, was the one who ploughed and tended the soil. That was why he was happy his wife gave him two sons, as they would be a lot of help when they grew up.

On the other hand, you were the only assistance your mother had. As the eldest daughter, you had to lend a hand in a variety of chores from dawn until dusk. There was never a shortage of tasks to do, so offering an excuse to slack off was unacceptable. It was your obligation to help because your parents worked hard everyday, without complaint.

As you ground the grain, you noticed that a hen and her little chicks had gathered around the stone grinder— eating from the seeds of wheat that fell to the ground every now and then. Sometimes Stefos chased after the little chicks, eager to play with them, so it was a little difficult to get him to do any work but that was alright with you. After all, he just wanted to be a child.

Argos lay on the ground and dozed off, keeping an ear out on his surroundings while you were outside— looking after the children of his master. Your mother was busy doing the dishes and caring for your youngest brother, who surely wanted to be breastfed again. Little Athanasius always seemed to be hungry, but he was just a baby so it was understandable.

As Stefos played around and fed the chicks, you ground the wheat and hummed the tune of an old lullaby. Your observed the landscape of mountains and fields, but your gaze was ultimately drawn to your house. Small and made of stone, it stood lonely a little further from the village. Your father had built it with his own hands and it had been all the home you'd ever known since your early days. Up until that point, it had been unthinkable for you to leave that place. In spite of your childish fantasies, where you could dream of other worlds, this was where your heart belonged.

It was your mother's dowry, upon marriage, which had allowed him to buy some land and start his own farm— but this wasn't always the case for all girls. Your mother had been fortunate because she had received a generous amount of money thanks to her aunt, who was a priestess herself at the sanctuary.

“There's no more wheat!” Stefano said in a cheery manner, as though he believed you were done for the day.

“We aren't finished yet.”

“Aw!”

“What do you complain about? You're just chasing after those poor chicks, while I do all the work here."

“I'm sorry…" he mumbled, apologetically— as though he was ashamed for slacking off. "I'll help now.”

With a sigh, you rolled your eyes and tried to hide the smile on your face. After all, you didn't want him to think that there was nothing wrong with his lazy attitude, but the truth was your little brother was endearing and you couldn't be mad at him.

“Really, it's fine. Just stay here while I fetch more grain, yes?”

"Can I go with you?" Stefos chirped with an innocent smile and you nodded before heading for the shed, where the grain was usually stored in big pots of clay.

Upon entering, you noticed that the hen and her chicks had followed you— hoping you would feed them a little more.

“You still hungry…?” you mumbled, as the mother gazed at you expectantly with those golden eyes and tilted her head in confusion. “Alright, alright… let's see if there's some ground corn for you.”

There was, of course. You always made sure there was plenty of food in store for them, as taking care of chickens and their offspring was mainly your job.

Spreading some of the corn on the ground, you called the hens and giggled at the way they hurried towards you— clucking at their chicks to let them know they’d found something to eat.

"Oh, I want to do it!" Stefos asked, jumping up and down in excitement, as he extended his little hands your way so you would leave the task up to him— which you did. It was simple enough, and he actually enjoyed spending time with his feathered friends.

Whilst he fed the chickens, you gathered the wheat grain in a small pot you’d brought with you, and then headed back to resume your work— lest your mother would reprimand you for disobeying.

“Don’t forget you have to help me with the grinder, and don’t give them more food than they can eat.”

“Alright, sis,” he said, giggling and paying little attention to you— as expected. Shaking you head, you left with a tiny smile on your lips.

Ah, little Stefos… it was better to let him have his fun while he was still a child, for he would be cultivating the earth under the sun as soon as he was old enough to work. That was what your father was planning for him, why he’d wanted your mother to bear him sons so badly. And the truth was, not much else could be expected from your brother— as cruel as that sounded. An advanced education was not really something that could be seriously taken into consideration, though there always was the possibility of a son— very rarely a daughter, almost as if it was forbidden— becoming a saint of Athena.

That was next to impossible, of course. It would be unthinkable if the child in question didn’t possess the gift to manipulate the cosmos. It was for this very reason that the sanctuary sought prospect candidates from all across the world and not just Greece. It wasn’t unheard of that apprentices hailed from distant places, because the abilities of these people were so special and rare it was almost like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Even if they were lucky to become apprentices, there was still the danger of the harsh training they had to endure. It was an open secret that many perished or deserted before even completing their basic instruction, and that alone was enough to deter many from even considering becoming a saint. Certainly, there were those families in the village that wished that fate upon their sons and actively sought to send them to the Sanctuary, but they either were pretty ignorant and had no idea what that decision entailed or felt no love for those children.

Being a saint of Athena was indeed a great sacrifice. One that not many were willing to make for the sake of mankind.

As you walked back, you wondered what could have motivated your father to have dealings with that woman. You had the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. No matter how hard you tried, you’d been unable to put aside these thoughts in the back of your mind. Could he be possibly considering sending one of your brothers, maybe Stefos, away? How could that be? Maybe it wasn’t his intention for his son to become a saint but living a life as a guard of the sanctuary… separating him from his family at such a young age. No, you didn’t want that. He was just a kid!

Perhaps this had nothing to do with your brother. Perhaps you were mistaken and this wasn’t what it looked like.

Still, you had to know what was going on…

Of course no one would tell you even if you asked. How could you demand answers from adults? You, a child that knew no better? Butting into their conversation was out of the question, too. If you were to do that, no doubt you would be spanked for your impertinence and it would reflect badly on your parents.

That meant you had to find other means to discover what they were planning to do. And for that, you had to go unnoticed…

You looked around in hopes that no one would spot you. It was kind of unlikely since your mother was too busy looking after your baby brother and doing housework… but if Stefos suddenly appeared out of nowhere making a fuss, or something happened to him, then you could be in trouble.

Well, he was feeding the chickens so it should be fine for the time being.

Passing by the window of your house, you stayed low and overheard the heated conversation your father and Pelagia were having. As an act of instinct, you hid from sight— and though you knew it was wrong, you couldn't help but feel a little curious and worried at their secretive ways. Huddling against the wall, their muffled voices became clearer the more you strained to listen.

“I must remind you again that I cannot promise your daughter will become a priestess. It is a feat that solely depends on her luck and dedication. The most I can do for now is ensuring she has a place at the sanctuary, but being ordained… it’s something completely beyond my control, and it's not for me to decide. Besides, most girls that enter the sanctuary end up becoming simple maids that do menial work in the service of others.” She sighed, and there was a hint on longing in her next words. “Oh, I wish I had been ordained one in my time but such is life!”

“Is there no hope for her, then?” your father asked, the urgency in his voice noticeable. “Are you telling me there’s no way for her to be a priestess, that I’ve wasted all that money for nothing?”

“No, that is not what I’m saying, Mr. Deimos. However, I feel the need to clarify that what you're buying is a chance for this girl to become a priestess, as I cannot guarantee that she will be one. Even if your wife's aunt is a servant of Athena herself, keep in mind that she will only choose the best from the batch and the others will either return home or become simple maids. For that reason you sought my help, didn’t you?”

“You're right,” he pondered for a while. “The sister of my mother-in-law has no wish to help my child. I tried to get in contact with her, but she won't even listen to me.

“And she has a good reason not to. Her reputation is at stake. If all priestesses were to leave behind a relative, one that is incapable and unworthy of this honor, then that would reflect badly on them. They're supposed to choose their successors based on aptitudes, not blood ties. This is a system that hasn't changed for years, and it won't any time soon.”

“Then what can you do?” He sounded almost desperate at his point, and your breath caught in your throat at Pelagia’s silence. You feared they would hear you if you even breathed a little louder, so your hand shot to your mouth in an effort to muffle your gasp. “There has to be a way for my daughter to become a servant of Athena!”

What were they even saying?? What was this all about? Sending you to the sanctuary and separating you from your family? This had to be a misunderstanding. Your father couldn't do that to you! Oh, gods...  you wanted to break in and beg him on you knees— to ask him if he would be capable of that. If he would do the same to you.

You had heard it from your mother once. Her grandmother told her how the child was torn from her arms, sent to live among strangers and then made to devote her life to a goddess that demanded her absolute dedication. Maybe you didn't understand what those obligations entailed back then, but you knew that you wouldn't see your family— not until you were much older and less attached to them, at least. By then, you would become a stranger to your own relatives... raised and educated by people who would shape you into what they wanted you to be.

Time and again you would be denied your request to see your loved ones, even if you beseeched, because it was your parents who entrusted you to the care of the sanctuary in the first place. And it didn't matter what you wanted; given enough time, you would have to accept it and resign to what they had decided for your life.

Then Pelagia spoke, and your heart wrenched in dismay as she gave your father the hope he needed to keep holding onto this futile dream of his.

“What I can do for your daughter is recommend her when the time comes. The priestesses in office seek to educate their replacements, as they get older. This is an exceptional time to gather young girls in preparation for that, since in a few years the current generation of priestesses will begin to retire.”

“I already know that. Why do you think I asked you to help me?”

“Because it is my job to interview the parents of the girl in question, and find whether they’re worthy of such honor. Of course, with the right incentive, I can provide an extra help and make sure she achieves the desired position. That is how the deal works, you see? We both can benefit greatly from it. Take this as an important investment for the future. I’m sure you know how advantageous it will be for your family…”

You wanted to scream you didn’t want any of that, but you couldn't. You were too scared, too shocked to move or react at that moment. And if he realized you were eavesdropping, you would be punished.

“What guarantee do I have?

“There is no guarantee, but it is the best offer you will ever get,” said Pelagia. “You may take it or leave it. I really don't care if your daughter ends up becoming the wife of some farmer and bears children until her teeth and hair fall out.”

Your father still didn't seem to be convinced and you were praying he wouldn’t accept it.

“I swear if you don't keep your end of the bargain—”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” the elder woman interjected, effectively silencing your father on the spot— something your mother would never dare do and neither would you. Just how could this woman be so certain about herself and talk as equals with him? “As the one in charge of overseeing the admission and preparation of both young boys and girls, I was tasked with that responsibility so I've been seeking prospective candidates for the past years. If your daughter works hard, and if she's smart enough for any of the priestesses to consider taking her in as an apprentice, she may have a chance. On my part, I will make sure that she has the priority. However, if you prefer it, we may revoke this compromise. The decision is in your hands, Mr. Deimos.”

Absolute quietness followed and you struggled to hold your breath, waiting for the answer that would change your life in ways you still couldn’t imagine.

And it certainly came.

“If there's at least a small chance of success, then I will take it.”

It was all you needed to know that you would have no choice in the matter. And though you didn’t understand it very well back then, what your father had done could have been compared to the act of arranging your marriage. Of course, in this case, you would be practically getting married to a goddess and not a man of flesh and blood. But differences aside, in a way you should have been grateful for his efforts. After all, he had sought your well-being, right? You would have an opportunity to aspire to a better life with advantages married women of the village could only dream of enjoying.

In all honesty, you didn’t care about any of that… neither marriage or a life of luxuries as a respectable servant of Athena. You were too young to even comprehend what your father intended for you, or the extent of his ambition, or the repercussions that this decision would bring in the future.

“Then it's settled. I shall make the necessary arrangements, and we'll see what happens in a few weeks."

* * *

Despite your knowledge of the conversation that had transpired between your father and Pelagia, you didn't dare ask anything about it. It was inconceivable for you to even question his judgment. If this was what your father decided, then it had to be for the best.

However, some days later, you finally mustered the courage to talk to your mother about it. At this point, you couldn't hold back anymore and you needed a word or reassurance from her— something that would put you at ease.

"Did I ever tell you the story of Poseidon and Medusa?" she asked one night, after tucking Stefos in bed.

Your brother shook his head, a spark of interest in his eyes.

“Do you know who Medusa is?”

“She's a scary monster with snake hair, who can turn men into stone.”

“Ah, but Medusa wasn't always a monster. Oh, no… once she was a very beautiful woman— a priestess of the goddess Athena.” _A priestess_? You didn't know that… the sudden reminder made you apprehensive, but you remained silent as your mother continued with her story. “Such was her beauty that when Poseidon saw her walking in the shores of the Aegean Sea, he fell in love with her. But despite her fair looks and the fact that she was a maiden servant of the goddess Athena, Medusa was vain and greedy.”

That was how you remembered it, for it was a tale that surely was etched on your memory. As you grew up, you never knew whether you should have felt pity for Medusa or not.

Legend said that all men who saw her were stunned by her beauty and asked for her hand in marriage. However, it seemed that no mortal was good enough to be her husband, for she was made a virgin priestess whose life would be dedicated to Athena.

It wasn't long before Poseidon set eyes on her and this was, most probably, one of the reasons that set forth the first holy war between Athena and the emperor of the seas. Some said that Medusa sought to gain his favor in order to become a goddess on Earth. She revealed to him secrets about Athena that should have been kept well guarded, betraying the goddess she was supposed to serve— effectively breaking her vows and instigating a conflict between them, when Athena demanded that Medusa be returned to her to be judged.

In spite of this villainous portrayal of her, a flicker of doubt always lingered in your heart. Was it truly ambition? Or could it have been love? Whatever her reasons, she had made her own choice and for that she had to pay too.

When the war between the two gods was finally over and Athena emerged victorious, she went against Medusa for all the lives that had been lost— the betrayal that had almost led to the destruction of mankind and the world. As punishment, Medusa was turned into a hideous creature. Her once luscious black hair became poisonous snakes; her visage, which had once been the object of envy among women and the desire of men, was no more as she took the form of an old hag with greenish scales.

Medusa’s beauty, which she had prized and even bragged about— the weapon she had used to seduce a god of Olympus no less, seeking her own benefit at the expense of many losses— was taken away from her. Still,  it wouldn’t be enough that she lost her youth and her dreams. For her sins, she was condemned to a life of utter and bitter solitude— driven away from her home to a lonely island. No one would dare look upon her, for they would be turned to stone, and not even the comfort of looking at another face for the rest of her life would remain. Even Poseidon Earth-shaker forgot about her in time and moved on to other conquests, leaving her to dwell in her own misery.

When Perseus slayed the gorgon, it must have tasted like sweet release to her.

Of course your mother didn’t give you the adult version— you learned it when you were older. She just told you that Medusa had done bad things and she’d been punished for her misdeeds— which hadn’t been minor offenses, most certainly. All that you knew was that Medusa had been wrong in her actions, though perhaps no one bothered to understand why she did all those things in the first place. If she even existed, that was. Well, maybe her reasons didn’t matter at the end of the day because it was only a nice fairy-tale.

When your mother was finished with her narration, she kissed your brother’s forehead before doing the same to you. Little Stefos was already fast asleep but you still couldn’t close your eyes.

“Sleep well tonight, my little one,” she whispered with a smile and brushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Though you couldn’t tell at the time, there was something in that smile that conveyed affliction despite her attempts to hide the turmoil in her heart.

Before she could take her leave, you grabbed the skirt of her dress and called out to her in a small voice. “Mama?”

At your sudden action, she turned around looking concerned.  
  
“What’s wrong, my dear?” Her voice was gentle and reassuring— and though you hesitated for a moment, knowing that she cared about how you felt, that she worried about you, was enough to help you gather some courage to speak up.

“Does papa… want me to leave?” Hiding half of your face beneath the covers, you uttered the question with apprehension and looked at her with big eyes— hoping that she would give you some peace of mind. Hoping that she would tell you such a thing would never happen.

Instead, she regarded you with a frown that she used to cover up her surprise at your question. "Why would you ask that?”

“Because I heard him talk with that old woman the other day!” you blurted out, unexpectedly, only to cover your mouth in shame. If your father heard you, it would be no good.

“And what did you hear?” It was clear that she didn’t like what you’d said, and this made you fearful of continuing. However, your mother insisted so you had no choice but to tell her.

“He wants to send me to the sanctuary… and that woman said that they could take me in. In a few week’s time. Mama, I don't want to leave. Why does papa want to do that? Doesn't he love me?"

"Of course he does, my beautiful pearl. He only wants what is best for you."

That wasn't enough. It was not. What you needed was to be certain that you wouldn't be sent away.

"I don't want to go. Promise me that old lady won't take me with her, please,” you begged with teary eyes and she hushed your blubbering swiftly, before you had a chance to cry.

What could have your mother done about it?

“Sleep, my darling. Tomorrow will be a long day,” was all the comfort she could offer.

Once she blew out the candle in the bedroom, the shadows took over— and all your fears returned like they did every night.

Your mother left in silence but, before she walked out the door, you could have sworn that she was wiping at her eyes as her body quivered.

* * *

In a few weeks…

That was the deadline Pelagia had set. A few weeks before it was decided whether you would stay with your family or be accepted to serve Athena.

In all honesty, you had wished she would forget about you— that she would deceive your father and take his money without fulfilling her part of the deal. You didn’t mean it with ill-intent, but it was your fear for the inevitable outcome that had you so shaken.  

In this state of affairs, your father seemed to grow irritable as the days passed and there was no word from Pelagia. However, his crusty mood changed when one morning he received a message from a guard of the sanctuary. Whatever it was, it certainly brought some sort of relief to him and, while you hadn’t been told a thing yet, it wasn’t hard to guess the reason for his contentment.

You tried to talk to your mother on different occasions but her silence only made you more apprehensive. It was clear she had no wish to deal with this matter and only evaded your questions, leaving you even more uncertain and distressed in the face of this predicament. Who else could you turn to for help if not her, then?

Even if you didn't understand it yet, the feeling of loneliness was overwhelming sometimes.

It was during lunch that your father broke the ‘wonderful’ news, and despite his evident happiness all you could feel was your heart sinking to your stomach as you were told that soon you would be living elsewhere.

“No!” you blurted out, much to his surprise— and yours, as you weren’t expecting to confront him. Normally you would have been an obedient child, but this was a desperate situation. “I don’t want to go! Please, don’t make me do it!”

He furrowed his brows, upset at your refusal to comply. “What  is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea of what you’re saying?”

Oh, you had a very good idea of what this meant and you didn’t like it in the slightest.

“I don’t want to go, papa! Why would you send me away?”

He wasn’t very pleased with your response, and you jumped in fear when his fist slammed on the table with a smash so strong it made the dishes clatter. “How dare you talk back to your father? Haven’t you educated your daughter, Melina?”

Your mother struggled to calm down Sakis, rocking him in her arms,  since he’d been startled by his father’s violent outburst. Meanwhile, Stefos remained silent with a fearful look in his eyes— immobile in his seat— and you tried to hold back tears.

“Please, she is only scared…” your mother tried to appease the man, who was glaring at you— his breathing ragged and his face flushed with anger.

“(Y/N) will do as she’s told or else!”

“I’m sorry, papa!” you raised your voice, balling your fists on your lap as you lowered your gaze— not having the courage to look him in the eye. “I never meant to offend you, and I would never disobey you, but I can’t accept this.”

“You ungrateful brat! I’m giving you the chance to become someone of renown, and this is how you pay me? With defiance? It would be an insult to the sanctuary to refuse their generous offer, and my business with them would be ruined!”

“Don’t be so harsh on her, please. She’s only a child—”

Pointing a finger to his wife, he growled, “this has nothing to do with you, woman, so don’t interfere!”

For the first time, you saw your mother talk back to him— and it was something that surely left you at a loss for words. “Nothing to do with me? I am her _mother_. I gave birth to her!”

It was something your father wasn’t expecting, either. Still, this wasn't enough to change his mind. “I am thinking about her future!”

“Her future or yours?!” she kept arguing, a hopeless attempt to fight back and stand her ground.

This was too much. You couldn’t take it anymore. Without anything else to say, you took off running outside and to the fields— hoping to leave this quarrel behind. Hoping to escape from the screams and the hurtful words that echoed painfully in your head.

The heat of the midday sun blazed on your face as you sought shelter from it. Even without knowing, without being actually conscious about it, your wandering steps took you to that spot where you’d spent afternoons daydreaming about stories of heroes and epic feats. Perhaps it wasn’t the safest place at the moment, but it was the only one that could give you some peace of mind.

The olive tree was said to be one of the symbols of the goddess Athena— the very goddess your father wanted you to serve— and you’d come seeking refugee in the shadow of its leaves. Oh, the irony. Of course, you didn’t have anything against her. What reason would you have for that? All that you wished was staying with your family, and that your father would understand his decision couldn’t make you happy.

Sitting down on a rock, you buried your face in your arms and cried— letting out all your frustration and sadness. This was all you that you had, all the comfort you could fill your heart with if only not to become an emotional wreck. You would cry until all your tears were spent, so you wouldn’t have any left to shed when the day to say goodbye to your family arrived.  

Sensing something cool and moist pushing against your arm, followed by a small whine, you raised your head— trying to wipe your tears away, even though they wouldn’t stop flowing. As blurry as your sight proved to be, you knew that it was Argos who had followed you into the fields. He must have seen you leave in such a sorry state and, though he didn’t understand very well what was going on, he knew something was wrong.

Again, Argos pushed his snout against your arm and rested his head on it, giving you these puppy eyes as he whined some more. It felt as if he was asking you what troubled you, what made you so sad— as though he was desperate to help but didn’t know how.

“I don't want to go, Argos,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms against his neck. “I really don't want to!”

Even so, it would have been futile to oppose. At that moment you didn’t know it, but this was the fate the Moirai had woven for you and they would make sure that you fulfilled it.

Still, people tended to struggle— in vain— against their circumstances in spite of their powerlessness to change anything.

Not even your mother could help you out of this. She might have tried to convince your father to desist, but her husband was a stubborn man and there was very little she could do to change his mind. So, of course, the matter of your unwillingness to comply was soon forgotten and there was no place for discussion. If your father wanted you to live in the sanctuary and receive the education of a priestess, as his daughter you had to obey.

This wasn’t to say he was a bad man, or at least you didn’t consider him as such. He was merely too headstrong and proud to listen to others, to the dismay of your poor mother and anyone involved in his plans. He was hardened with constant misfortunes, after being raised amid the poverty and destruction of the Second War and the Civil War in Greece that broke out afterwards.

Despite the argument your parents had that day, your mother had grown silent as of late and you didn’t dare bring up the subject for fear of instigating another fight. You just didn’t want to cause any drama in your family. There were enough problems to worry about as it was, and your little brothers were still too young to understand the situation at hand— even you could barely comprehend why you were being forced to do this. All that they knew was that their parents were quarreling, and that it was something scary to witness.

Your mother was only trying to keep the integrity of this family safe, and if that meant she would have to let go of her eldest daughter— for the sake of appeasing her husband’s demands— she would do it. Maybe in the end she was convinced that this was the best for everyone. Either way, you couldn’t really blame her even if it hurt.

And of course it did hurt… though you wouldn’t talk about it to anyone— except for Argos. He had made a good job at comforting you these past days, and even if he couldn’t understand your dilemma… at least he’d stayed by your side when you needed a friend.

Now it was a matter of time until you had to leave home.

* * *

One morning, your father announced that you were to accompany him to the village.

This was not an odd occurrence, in the least. After all, he’d always needed help your help when selling his goods in the market and you’d been more than happy to oblige. It was a chance to interact with other inhabitants of Rodorio, to see and marvel at this world and its wonders from your seat in the cart. You’d even made friends with other children in there and played with them near the fountain at the square, oblivious to the ever growing political dissension between the left and right wing parties— and their struggles for power.

Towards the end of the Second War, and after the liberation of the country, Greece descended into the horrors of yet another war— this time between communist partisans and the forces of a monarchy that had returned from exile. The result of this conflict was victory for the Hellenic Army, with the help of the UK and the United States— the latter of which supplied the Greek army with weapons and training, as part of the Truman doctrine to fight off the Soviet communism and stop its expansion across Western Europe.

The civil war left Greece in a state that could be considered worse than that of the Nazi occupation, causing the significant destruction of infrastructure and leaving an economic system in shambles— for a country that was already poor before the Second War. Thousands of Greeks were forced to emigrate to other countries, mainly to the United States and Australia, among others. On the other hand, the fabric of society was torn apart between victors and the vanquished, a division that would not recede until the end of the military junta and the declaration of the Third Hellenic Republic— along with the formal abolition of the monarchy.

In the eyes of a child, this situation would have been difficult to understand and, either way, there wasn’t much for you to worry about. If anything, you didn’t even have any idea of the increasingly arduous economic situation and the political struggles for power this land was going through. Maybe if you’d known, then you would have understood why your father had decided to send you with those people in the first place. Despite the rapid and consistent economic growth that the loans of the Marshall Plan had induced, this ‘miracle’ only served to widen the gap between the rich and the poor.

Notwithstanding your concerns, you obeyed without any complains and prepared for the trip to Rodorio. As you said goodbye to your mother that morning, you noticed that she was trying to hold back tears. Before you could ask why, she turned away and walked inside— as if the burden of her emotions was too much to bear.

Somehow, you knew what would happen that day… your heart could foresee it, but what could you do? You were too small and young to fight against the will of your elders.

And so you set off, sitting in the back of the cart as your father led the horse by the reins. Argos followed you a good distance and then stopped to bark and cry, as though he knew it was the last time he would see you.

And it would be the last time you’d see your home in a long while.

* * *

Your stay in the village was pretty much uneventful.

For once, you weren’t running around the fountain of the square— playing with the other kids. Neither did you have any wish to take a look around and talk to other people. Your mind was more preoccupied with other matters and, being aware of your father’s intentions, you couldn’t be at ease. However, time passed and there was no indication that anything out of the ordinary would take place that day— or that was what you believed, at least.

The trip back was silent, for the most part, though that wasn’t what actually made you restless. It was the fact that he’d taken a very different route instead of the usual way home. Well, perhaps he had some other business to do before leaving— you tried to reason, but doubt overwhelmed you.

“Where are we going, papa?” You poked your head over the cart, wondering what could possibly be the motive for this detour.

But you didn’t receive a direct answer from him. Instead, he grumbled something under his breath and didn’t pay attention to you anymore. In moments like these, you knew better than to irritate your father so you didn’t insist. Still, you were both curious and apprehensive at this change of plans. You’d never been here before, and seeing that there were no houses around as you went deep into a wooded area wasn’t something that you would be expecting.

The sight of daisies and other wildflowers on the side of the road made you forget your concerns briefly, as your big eyes followed the colorful blossoms. Oh, you would have liked to pick some of those for your mother. That would surely bring a smile to her face! Maybe on the way back, you would ask him to make a stop so you could put a bouquet together.

In the distance, you spotted a group of old ruins and thought on how magnificent that construction must have looked in the past. During the golden age of saints, before their feats faded into legend, their glory and power must have surpassed the imagination and this surely should have been reflected on the appearance of the sanctuary. These ruins probably had been a temple to Athena, guarded by her forces, and open to those who came to worship her and make offers.

“Stop right there!” a masculine voice cried out all of a sudden, startling you out of your musings.

On his part, your father didn’t look very alarmed as he pulled at the reins of the horse and brought the cart to a stop.

“Turn around and leave immediately,” the voice said, deep and commanding. “This is forbidden land to you.”

Looking up in search of the one speaking, you realized that dozens of men were surrounding you from both sides of the road— their gazes glued on your father as they stood above the cliffs of the rocky hills.

“Good day, sir,” your father greeted, not a hint of fear or concern in spite of the dangerous situation you seemed to have walked into. While your first assumption had been that these men were bandits, there was no doubt they were guards from the sanctuary and you’d just trespassed onto their territory.

“Turn around now, if you value your life. This is your last warning.”

Swiftly, they descended and blocked the way to stop you from going any further. At that moment, you had to admit that you were terrified. Perhaps this was the first time you’d thought you would die.

“I would, but I have business to do here. I’ve come to deliver something,” your father stated, unwilling to relent.

“Under whose orders?” asked the man, rather suspiciously.

“See it for yourself.” Your father produced a scroll from his bag and held it in plain sight of everyone.

After some brief deliberations, the officer in charge finally decided that a single man and a child were no threat to them and ordered his subordinates to stay put— but their eyes still followed your every move. Approaching the cart, he took the scroll from your father’s hand— eyeing him with distrust. It was obvious they were not very friendly with outsiders and were wary of any prowler who sought to discover the secrets of their home. However, this was very strange to you. While your father had dealings with the sanctuary, this place was off-limits even for him and all trade was done back in the village. Besides, you didn’t carry anything of great value to justify coming all the way here.

If this wasn’t about a purchase, then…

“I see... “ The officer nodded when he finished reading the manuscript. Then, he looked in your direction as you made yourself smaller in hopes he wouldn’t notice your presence. “Is that your daughter?”

“She is, sir.”

“Very well, then. Myron!”

A tall, burly, man dressed in the garments of a common guard stepped forward. “Yes, sir!”

“Take this little girl to the apprentice’s pavillion and to the chief governess Pelagia. She’s expecting her.”

You couldn’t believe those words, and you shook your head— eyes alreading tearing up as you tried to reach for your father so these men wouldn’t take you away. “Papa, no! I don't want to go, please!”

The officer arched an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “Did you not tell her about this?”

“My girl is only scared of leaving her family, but what child would be happy with that?” your father explained, his expression irritated at your expected fuss.

"Clearly, you haven't prepared her for this moment. However, this is the expected reaction from a child. She will get over it in time."

Myron tried to get a hold of you, but it was proving to be difficult for him when you ran from side to side of the cart in order to avoid being caught.

“Come here, you runt!” he said through gritted teeth, and his aggressive behavior was something that scared you even more.

“Leave me alone!” you cried fiercely, trying to stay away from him as far as possible. His endeavors were thwarted every time you dodged his hands, and it came to the point the other men began to make fun of him. They probably found the situation hilarious, while to you it felt like it was the end of the world.

“Look, he can’t catch a little girl!” someone snickered.

“We’ll probably stand here the whole day before he does it. _Bwahahaha!_ ”

“Grrrr, shut up!” Myron growled, already frustrated by your cries and the constant mockery of his comrades.

“Enough!” their commanding officer cut off their taunting and ordered Myron to catch you at once, before he lost his patience and sent him on guarding duty for an entire week.

Finally, considering your unwillingness to cooperate, your father intervened and asked a few moments alone with you. His soft expression was all you needed to run to him when he approached, hoping to convince him somehow to take you home and forget about his terrible wish for you to become a priestess.

“Papa, don’t leave me here, please…” you sniffled as he put a hand on your head.

“My child, this is the best for everyone.” His voice was soft, almost too gentle, but his words weren’t comforting.

“But papa, I don't want to!” At this point, your face was a mess of tears and you were hiccuping as you spoke. “Why would you send me away? Did I do something wrong?”

“You must do this, for us. You will be much better off here, and there are many wonderful things in the sanctuary. You can have an excellent education and become someone important in the service of Athena. This is a chance not many girls get.”

“I don't care about any of that!” Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t what you wanted?

“Don't be like that. Pelagia will look after you.”

“She scares me!”

He sighed and then held your tiny shoulders, crouching in front of you. “Don't you want your siblings to have nice things and a better life? Think of them, think of how happy Stefos and Sakis would be thanks to you.”

Of course you wanted your little brothers to have a better life, but this was asking too much from you…

“I want to go home!”

“Don't be so selfish, my girl.”

“You're the one being selfish, sending me away with people I don't know! I hate you! I hate you!”

With your small fists, you hit his chest multiple times— though barely hurt him.

He shook you, already tired of your complaints. “Enough! You will go and that's final! If you don’t become a priestess of Athena, never return home. You’ll be no daughter of mine.”  
  
With that as a last warning, your father dragged you towards the guard by the arm and ignored your pleas. Even as he handed you to Myron, you still cried and kicked... refusing to give in. However, it wasn’t difficult for the guard to restrain you— lifting your tiny body and slinging it over his massive shoulder.

“Take her. From this moment, I entrust my child to the care of the sanctuary,” your father stated, not even a shred of remorse or woe in his voice.

You didn't understand why he was doing this to you. Didn't he love you? Did you mean nothing to him?

“Fine, let’s go,” said Myron, tightening an arm around you so you wouldn't fall off.

"Papa!” You extended your arms, desperate to reach out for him before being parted. “ _PAPA!_ ”

He only watched as you were taken away, then turned around the cart around and went home.

You had no more strength to resist, as Myron carried you. The fact that your father had turned his back on you was enough to kill all hope, even to kill all love. The way you saw it, he had abandoned you without thinking twice and never looking back. He didn't love you like you though he did. For a child, coming to that conclusion was heartbreaking and it left a deep wound in your soul.

“What a whiny little girl!” Myron complained, already tired of your constant crying.

"Let her weep until she grows tired,” his boss said, as though this wasn't the first time he'd witnessed such a harrowing event. “She isn't the first to be parted from her family and won't be the last."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part turned out to be longer than expected, so hopefully it serves as compensation for the delay. Again, I apologize for that :c I'll try not to make this fic longer than 10 chapters, but we'll see.
> 
> Next time, we'll introduce Saga in the story huehuehue. Aiolos will make an appearance at some point, for sure... and the rest of the little gold saints, too, in later chapters, when Saga and Aiolos are older xD
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and thank you! ♥♥


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